


Icarus Rising

by th3rm0pyl43



Series: Secundae [2]
Category: Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Father Figures, Flashbacks, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Mentor/Protégé, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Self-Acceptance, grown men bawling their eyes out, mention of medical procedures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 06:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20652923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/th3rm0pyl43/pseuds/th3rm0pyl43
Summary: "Sarif, something's right again."





	Icarus Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack:  
Sarif Industries  
Tai Yong Medical Penthouse

_It's time. It's time. It's time. It's time._

Over and over, a mad mantra - but it was true.

Jensen felt like he was going to burst any second now. He had to tell someone. Vega? No, he didn't trust her enough quite yet. Koller? No... he would understand, but surely he didn't have time at this outrageous hour. Who else-

Damn it, how could he forget Sarif? _Goes to show how scrambled I am. A drink won't fix this._

Shoving the whiskey bottle back into the cabinet, Jensen cursed under his breath, took a swig of water instead and let himself plop down onto his couch. The motion allowed his racing thoughts a moment of rest, and he closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. Not that keeping up appearances was something he needed to do with Sarif, but it would help him put into words what had kept him up all night. 

Within a few minutes, his mind was still focused solely on _it _and his forehead and beard still felt slightly damp, but at least his pulse had calmed again. Jensen picked up the remote and called Sarif.

He didn't answer immediately. Usually it would worry Jensen, knowing that Sarif always dropped everything if his protégé needed something, but now there was no such nervous twinge in the pit of his stomach. He simply waited, more patient than he'd been in a long time.

"Adam! You're up early today... how have you been, son?"

_Son_. Jensen smiled at the screen, warmth engulfing the restless ball of _emotion_ that had been roiling within him for hours. "Good morning, Sarif. I'm feeling great."

Sarif still had sleep clouding his voice and had hastily thrown on a bathrobe. He always greeted Jensen warmly, and never seemed to mind any of his antics, whether being in nothing but underwear, calling in the middle of the night, or trying to eat breakfast and have a serious conversation at the same time. But one little word caught him completely off guard now, and within a second he was wide awake, incrudulously leaning towards his own screen.

"Did I hear that right? That's the first time I've heard those words out of your mouth, Adam! You've got good news for me, I can see it in your eyes. Now don't keep me waiting, tell me!"

Jensen exhaled slowly, relishing what it felt like to truly be at ease again. "Sarif, something's right again. I don't know what tipped the balance, but... for the first time since I changed, I really feel like myself. I feel _whole_ again."

Sarif found no words. 

Looking Jensen over, he could spot gleaming streaks under his eyes, disappearing into his beard. He'd been crying. Hurting. And just now, finally healing.

Sarif had to cover his mouth with one hand, only staring at Jensen for a long while. This was far more than he'd expected to hear while the moon was setting over Detroit. 

"Adam, I..." He shook his head, deciding not to bother hiding his own emotions when Jensen bared his so readily to him, leaving himself vulnerable... yet now he had found a strength far greater than that of the body.

Jensen half sobbed, half laughed, eyes gleaming with tears, sea-blue irises shining like the morning sun beginning to peek through the window blinds. "I'm _me_ again, David!" 

He lifted his hands and flexed his fingers, smiling up widely at the screen. "These - they're not augs anymore. They're my hands. Mine."

Silence again as Sarif quietly burst into tears himself. A proud inventor- no, _father_, whose creation blossomed into more than a vision come true.

"I-" Jensen hiccuped. "I spent so much time... hating what I thought was not me anymore. I thought I was being forced to be someone- something I'm not. But... the whole time I've still been myself, and I was hurting too badly to see it... didn't want to see it with my new eyes."

"I knew you'd recognize this truth eventually, my son."

"I have now. I see it. With my own eyes, David." He looked up, and Sarif saw the both of them in the SI headquarters' basement again, barely two stories below the destroyed laboratories, in the ward where Jensen beheld his new self for the first time. 

Two flawless _Eye-See__s _fixing him with their viridian gaze, speaking to his very heart, now as then.

They were still the little miracles of biotechnology that he'd chosen that night, taken from storage himself, engineer's instinct guiding his hand when he'd reached inside the cabinet past many identical sealed bags. He had hoped that when the surgeons sealed the incisions, they would do honor to Jensen's soulful, vastly expressive eyes.

And they did, more than he'd ever imagined. They _were_ his eyes now.

"You gave me a gift, David," Jensen whispered. "It took me so long to see it for what it is... what it's always been. You made me into more than I could ever have been before. You've given so much... not just to me. To everyone who was so proud to work for us. To anyone who came to you in their time of need. To the world, even if Darrow didn't let them have it. And... you inspired me to do the same. Thank you."

Sarif was far past the point of staying dignified. He cried like Jensen did, hand shining with more than gold. Father and son bonded not through blood but through love, base and primal. Adam Jensen, his Icarus, had touched the sun.

And his wings would never burn again.


End file.
